


then turn selfishness into a weapon

by youareiron_andyouarestrong



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: A Serious Conversation, F/M, Iris gives Barry what for, Speculative, not undeserved, post-flashpoint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:18:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youareiron_andyouarestrong/pseuds/youareiron_andyouarestrong
Summary: after Flashpoint, Iris confronts Barry about his choices and how they affect the rest of them.





	

* * *

 

_“Then turn selfishness into a weapon! …My dreams! My brother! My family! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because **they are mine!”**  
_

– _The Wee Free Men_ , Terry Pratchett 

* * *

 

_It will be like nothing ever happened._

Out of all the lies Barry Allen has ever said to her, by omission or deliberate intent, this is the one Iris hates the most. 

Again and again, she kisses him, chooses him, _has_ him; for a few shining moments the world is in alignment again, as it should be. And again and again and _again,_ she _loses_ him, he  _leaves_ her, he changes things, because Barry Allen is a hero, Barry Allen is a young man in love, Barry Allen is a little boy who lost his parents and wants the world to be right and safe and _good,_ even he has to make it that way himself. 

Iris wants to shake him, shout at him, knock him unconscious. She wants him to keep still long enough for her to explain that he isn’t invincible, he’s not all-powerful, he’s not _God,_ to make the world conform to his will and this is _fine_. That’s _okay._ She doesn’t ever expect these things from him, never did. 

All she wants, is for him to stay. To stay with her, let the world, the universe, the choices they make be _enough._ Let them save the world together by speed and by words, let them have dinner with Joe and Wally every Sunday night, watch dumb shows on Netflix and see even dumber zombie movies together, _this is not that hard, Barry, come on._

She finally, finally, gets it out of him, what happened, the alternate reality he made for himself, with his parents alive and together with him, Eobard Thawne rendered physically harmless, _Wally was a speedster, god_ –

Her and Wally estranged from Joe. Joe struggling with alcohol and work, her snapping at him in front of Barry. _God,_ it feels like a vicious prophecy.

“Was it worth it?” she asks Barry flatly. “All of that, was it worth it?”

She hates being the one to put that tortured look on his face, that anguish of having to choose one family over the other, but he needs to face it. He needs to look it in the face, these choices of his. “I don’t–I don’t know,” he says miserably. “I let other people pay the price for my happiness, I thought if my parents were back, I could be _whole,_ that that was  _home–”_

“ _I’m_ your home,” Iris shouts, voice cracking with grief. “This is your home, with me and dad and Wally and Cisco and Caitlin and _everyone!_ This has always been your home, Barry, how could you make all that _vanish_ for two people who are _dead and gone?”_

If she had been the one to drive a hand into his heart, she’s not sure he could look any more anguished, or furious. “They’re my _parents,”_ he almost yells, his voice breaking now. “My mom and dad, I am supposed to let them _die_ if I could stop it–” 

“You think I wouldn’t bring _my_ mom back if I could?” Iris demands, fighting so, so hard not to cry. “You think that if I had your powers, I wouldn’t bring her back in a _heartbeat,_ in a _second,_ if I could? You think you have some kind of monopoly on loss, Barry? That you’re the only one allowed to grieve, or mourn?”

She’s really crying now, despite her best efforts not to, and even in the midst of this fight, even as they’re standing on opposite sides of the room, Barry comes to her with his hands open, ready to comfort and hold her, without even thinking about it. 

“Did you _forget_ everything?” Iris demands, not going to him, not moving towards him. Because what he says next might mend or shatter her. 

“I remember _everything,”_  he says almost pleadingly. “I remember–I remember things that never happened, will never happen, and things that happened in another life, in another _universe._ Iris, in every universe, you’re there. You’re the constant for me no matter what timeline or earth I end up in.” 

She sucks in air, dashes tears off her cheeks. “Then the world I’m in now better be _enough_ for you, Barry Allen. Because this is the world _I’m_ in, the one _you’re_ in, and I’m so _tired_ of losing you.”

She’s tired, tired in her bones, in her heart, so she doesn’t fight when Barry does cross the distance between them, pulls her in close, buries his face in her hair. She shudders and breathes and shakes against him; it’s like hugging the center of the earth. “Don’t you ever, _ever_ time travel ever again,” she orders his heart, pounding underneath her ears, beating still. Beating on. “Or I’ll–I’ll–I don’t know _what_ I’ll do, but you won’t appreciate it.”

“I won’t,” he says, “I promise.” 

Iris sinks her nails into his shirt, drags him closer still. She wants to mark him up, drag her nails across his skin, put her teeth into his collarbone, grip bruises on his wrist, claim him, _declare_ him as hers. He is _her_ Barry Allen, and all of time and space and the universe and the Speed Force or whatever the hell’s in charge cannot take him away from her. _Mine and mine alone, this Barry, for always, mine._  

**Author's Note:**

> the conversation I'd _like_ to see happen, post-Flashpoint


End file.
